


Give me faith, my reluctant God.

by LucidLoss



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Depression, Isolation, Love/Hate, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, References to Depression, Religious Discussion, Royalty, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucidLoss/pseuds/LucidLoss
Summary: Dream is a simple man who happens to live in a church he hates. Techno is a prince who doesn't believe in gods. So why is this supposedly "simple" man driving his mind in circles? Even the voices are acting strange around this man.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 329





	1. Chapter 1

It was a quiet and peaceful day decidedly, if anyone were to ask Techno. Wilbur was off doing boomer dad things with Fundy, Tommy was hanging with his peasant friend Tubbo, and Techno himself? He was enjoying his day with some light reading in the castle's library, basking in the beams of light. 

He knew not to expect the peace to last for long, Phil expected all three of them to gather for a family dinner by eight pm. That was bound to be entertaining, considering whenever Tommy and Wilbur were in the same room you could practically feel their screams transfer into a throbbing headache for those who were anywhere in the vicinity. A painful experience for all those involved, surely. 

The giant oak doors of the library creaked open, pulling the pink haired male from his musings. A blonde and brunette peaked around the corner, one striding confidently forward while dragging his shy peasant friend along. 

Techno laughs to himself quietly, book closing shut with a light 'umph' sound. Tubbo had never adjusted to being around him or Phil, even after being friends with Tommy and on good terms with Wilbur for the past two years. He couldn't blame the brunette though. Phil and himself were rather well known for their lack of mercy towards enemies and challengers.

"HEY BIG MAN! Technoblade! Blade! How's it going?" The loud blonde blurts out, sliding into the seat next to the pinkette. Tubbo sits beside Tommy, flashing Techno an almost apologetic smile. He understood the elder prince generally preferred solitude, going the extra mile to avoid the noise of the world and even his own family at times.

"Well Tommy, I was enjoying rereading Sun-Tzu's "The Art Of War" again before I was rudely pulled out of my thoughts by a nuisance." The monotone prince replies, sighing to himself quietly.

"Don't be like that Technoblade! Phil wanted us to remind you that you have to meet up with the church leaders before dinner today, you are responsible for talking about their budget. Hah! You're stuck talking about numbers and god with old people! Sounds awful-"

The elder prince exhaled in aggravation, bringing both hands to rub furiously at his face. "I fail to understand why Phil keeps humoring those crackpot old fools- God doesn't exist. There is no deity or divine entity watching over humanity, there is no supernatural being that holds humanity's wishes at heart. They are just desperate for something to believe in and worship to give meaning to their pathetic and short lives. Meanwhile, we waste our kingdom's wealth humoring those naive beliefs." The older prince snarls, sparing a spiteful glance towards the windows that faced the direction the Church had been built.

Tubbo shifts uncomfortably, glancing outside to see the towering building that lay across the town. The golden gilded cross sat on the top, almost taunting anyone who looked upon it.

"Well you do have to keep the people happy, right? Otherwise they tend to riot- right Tommy?" Tubbo murmurs quietly to the blonde prince, fidgeting with his hands on the table. He was nervous to speak his mind around royalty, which was fair considering all the backlash people have gotten from trying to "persuade" them in the past.

Tommy hums in acknowledgment, seemingly unbothered by the tense atmosphere. "Well when you put it that way, I suppose you're right Tubbo." He then turns back to the pinkette, expression hardening into something a little more serious. "Make sure not to voice your opinions, big man. You know how important it is for us to keep ties with the people of the church, Phil says the hold far too much influence. You'll be attending a service with normal commoners later today."

A sour look overtook the blonde prince's face, contorting his face. "In Wilbur's words- don't mess this up and 'play nice'." He says with an eye-roll, already moving to get up and leave. "C'mon Tubbo, he's gonna be in a foul mood the rest of the day. We don't need to deal with that." Tommy says with a huff, dragging his commoner friend along by the sleeve.

Just as quickly as they came, they were both gone. Perfect. 

Taking a brief look at the sun's positioning outside, Techno gathers he should just start heading to the church. He knew it would take some time to actually arrive, the city's streets tended to get busy when late church services were held. Typical.

Sparing a final longing look towards his cozy library corner, Techno lifts himself up to make his way down the marble halls of the palace. Giant portraits portraying him and his family in prestige positions.

Punz, the stable hand, was there to greet him as per usual. "Good afternoon my Prince, using Carl instead of the royal carriage again?" He questioned aloud, already moving to prepare the horse in question with a saddle.

"Naturally, that box feels stuffy as hell and takes all the fun out of going outside." Techno responds with a hint of bitterness, biting at his tongue so as to keep himself from another rant about palace propriety. It was truly a drag compared to his preferred free days, where he could just read or train with the more hardened knights.

The stable hand gives a hearty laugh, leading Carl who had been saddled up for Techno to take quickly. "Try not to be too harsh with those boomers, we all know how passive aggressive they tend to make you." Punz chuckles almost sadistically, finding glee in the royal's exasperated expression. 

"We'll see what happens…" Techno mumbles, eyebrows knitted together to spell out his vexation. It was sickening to even think about the almost guaranteed boredom.

"Goodbye Punz, I'll be back, please refrain from letting Tommy drag all of the horses out of the stable again. Phil was rather annoyed the last time it happened." He drawls out, mounting the horse quickly. He'd probably be back later than expected, he realized. 

'Doesn't matter, Phil could get Wilbur to replace me at any future meetings for the next day or two…' Techno can't help but think, expression twisting into something sour. 

People tended to treat Wilbur and him as if they were extensions of each other, even if their personalities and appearances wildly differed. Being a twin was hard sometimes.

"Alright Carl lets go, I want to get this abysmal field trip over with." He remarks softly into the horse's ear, giving a gentle snap of his reigns to get Carl started into a slow-building trot. This was going to be hell, ironically enough.

____________________________________

"DREAM! WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU WEARING?! THERE IS A PRINCE COMING TO OUR SANCTUARY, THE VERY LEAST YOU COULD DO IS DRESS ACCORDINGLY AND NOT AS A STREET URCHIN. REMOVE THAT UNSIGHTLY MASK AND GARISH SHIRT THIS INSTANT. YOU HAVE AN HOUR. NOW GO." The maiden screeches, roughly grabbing the tall blonde by his arm and scurrying to bring him into the men's changing room.

Aforementioned blonde gave a reluctant huff, letting his "unsightly" garments be torn away. This woman had little understanding of privacy or any form of humiliation. It made the cocky male scoff internally, the whole "holier than thou" attitude was getting old. These people are fake as hell.

"Why the hell should I care if some prince comes here?! Just let me go out and-" a cold bucket of water is dumped over his head, leaving him sputtering while the woman glares. 

"Have some respect you damned boy. The royal family funds and provides everything you eat, sleep on, and the roof that covers your head. You should be grateful they are sparing so much for a boy bound to hell!" She sniffs, forcibly scrubbing some shampoo that smelled of lavender and chamomile into his blonde hair. Sure, it was a relatively calming scent but he wasn't exactly comfortable with some religious woman aggressively dragging her grubby fingers through his hair. And for such a stupid reason, a prissy prince would be showing up.

Oh wow, he's being treated to basic human rights! Should he jump up and down in joy and kiss the monarchy's feet? The reason he didn't have a home of his own is the royal family's fault anyways, he had lost his family to one of their stupid wars. His father died a disposable soldier, mother died of an ailment, and Drista was taken away from him by a nightly raid.

And then he gets left to be dragged off to some church monastery, with nobody truly giving a fuck about him. It was just days of laboring to keep this stone prison up and running. Pointless.

An irritated click of a tongue pulls him from his thoughts and the woman is already pulling him from the bath room, tugging him to a side room often used for dressing up. 

"Listen here you little brat, the priest felt incredibly generous enough to provide you with these expensive pieces you are going to be wearing for the prince's visit. Do not take his charity for granted." She finished stonily, pulling silky white robes over his paled skin.

He shivered inwardly, the thought of that perverted priest sickened him to his very core. The man fetishsized and fantasized about breaking Dream's "innocence", going out of his way to touch and dress up Dream. Yet no one took issue with it, simply saying the man had invested interest in guiding Dream towards the light. And he was a saint for putting up with Dream. What a fucking joke.

He risked a glance downward and groaned at the exorbitant looking clothing, a drawn out sigh heaving out of his chest. "Of course ma'am…" he manages to mumble out, shuffling his bare feet against the cool tile flooring. 

"Good. Now put on these flats and get to your seat. Do not speak unless spoken to. Any bad behavior will end in lashings, am I understood?" The maiden questions with her dreadfully shrill voice. 

"Yes ma'am. No moving unless I am given permission or told to by my superiors, no speaking out of turn, no raucous behaviors. I am in complete understanding. You need not go into further detail." He replies cooly, soft palms pulling white boots up his slender legs quickly before coming back up to join at his midsection. "I will be leaving now, madam, if you should need me, I will be by the podium, as I'm sure you know..." He trails off, turning on his heel and quickly grabbing at the door to make his way back out into the marble halls. 

A few paces away he unclasps his hands, letting them come down to rest at the pale as snow material covering his hips in balled fists. "What a bitch." He remarks flatly, pacing to the worship room with a ticked off expression. He could hide in here until it was time for the choir and service, even if the only place to sit was a stupid wood podium meant to hold biblical texts, and not a human. He could care less though.

"Not like anyone uses this place when we have a hall of grandeur in the front of the church." He speaks out into the empty space, hoisting himself up backwards with little difficulty. If there's one benefit of working at keeping this place from becoming a dump, it would be the constant workout it provided for his entire body. The soreness wasn't even that bad nowadays!

At least, that's what it felt like? Could be just his body being used to constantly being overworked. It was a wonder he hadn't calloused his hands like all of the other boys, especially when he gets stuck doing the brunt of the work. That's the true miracle at work here. 

'That service is going to be stuffy as hell…' he thinks to himself tilting his head back to bask in the sunshine that filtered through the stain glass windows. The warm rays felt nice against his back, the colors dancing against his clothes were beautiful. 

A hum reverberates around the room as he remembers one of the tunes his friends taught him from an old tavern the next town over, a tale of meeting a stranger by and being pulled from the known world. If only. 

A heavy breath pulls him from his thoughts, startling him to snap his head forward, emerald mist green eyes fixating on a pink-haired male who was watching him with blown wine red eyes. A red robe lined with snowy fur is draped around their shoulders, covering the frilly dress shirt and waist cincher beneath, pure gold clasps and chains keeping it together. Their pink hair was bright, their braids thrown together haphazardly. Yet he still managed to look regal, a crown upon his head. He was a gorgeous man.

Yet were openly gaping at him, a hand clutched at their chest. They looked like they had just witnessed a ghost, and the desperate heaves of air were an attempt to ground themself. It made him self-conscious, having someone stare at him as if his very existence were some weird phenomena.

Dream can't help but tilt his head at the pink haired male, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Had he done something wrong? Was something out of place? He desperately wanted his mask now, the stare of this regal man making him want to be swallowed up by the earth. It was a stark contrast to his usual care-free attitude. It was horrible.

So, to break the awkward silence between the two, Dream stills, looks up, and smiles wide. There were certain ways to talk to guests, and he'd promised himself he wouldn't let himself be punished for a stupid reason today. He waves his palm gently "Greetings, my dear friend. How may I assist you today?" He questions with a serene smile, hands resting on his thighs gently. 

The pinkette moves to speak before a shrill ring of "YOUR HIGHNESS" rings in through the halls, pulling his attention away from Dream. 

One of the monastery's sisters rushes to the pink-haired male, gazing up at the tall man with worried eyes. "Your highness, you worried us by wandering off. The high priest was concerned when you fell behind the group and disappeared. I'm glad I've finally found you, let me guide you to the service now, sir." She gestures for him to follow her, rushing him away from Dream.

All the man can do is spare a longing and a final marvel at the male before him.

When they're gone, Dream is left bewildered. 

Then it dawns on him- that man was the prince. That person was part of the royal family. And was gaping at him as if his existence was confusing. Had he done something wrong? Who knows at this point…?

He needed to get to the main service anyways.

____________________________________

When Techno finally reaches the daunting stone structure, he's greeted by a small party of people with fake smiles. Disgusting. He could already tell this would be worse than he originally thought. 

An old man briskly comes down the steps, bowing before him in all of his snivelling glory. A perfect picture of waste. It made his stomach churn when he caught a whiff of the man's overbearing cologne, the smell burning his nose. 

'This is a damn nightmare.' He consciously notes to himself, eyes narrowing at the man before him. Right. He's supposed to be nice. 

A subtle smirk graces his lips as he starts to make his way up the polished steps of the church, the man behind him scurrying like a rat after him. "My father tells me you have much to show me, I should hope you do not disappoint. It would be a shame if I had to pull funds from this lovely place because I find you have wasted precious resources the royal family have provided." He comments off-handedly, relishing the way all of them stiffen at his words. A bunch of cowards.

"Now lead the way. I'm sure you will not cease to amaze me through this entire tour."  
"Of course! Right this way your highness! We would like to show you the prayer room reserved for those of your stature." The priest says with another false smile, waving his hand for the royal to follow. 

The young monarch followed along, even if he rather be in the castle training grounds beating down some of the more hardened guards into the ground. His hands itched to hold a blade. The previously quieted voices chanting things such as "we'll show them who the real god is" or "blood for the blood god" and a very common one of just "E" being said repeatedly. 

'Really speaks a lot about how much these types piss me off' he rings out quietly, legs carrying him as the old man listlessly continues on, bragging about the accumulated wealth as if it had been earned. 

He could feel himself falling behind, the drag of the man's voice gradually fading out, leaving Techno by himself in a marble hall with a few dark oak wooden double doors. They were all engraved with angelic designs, extensions of vines and instruments accompanying them. Too bad it wasn't even an accurate representation of their angels.

A gentle hum coming from one of the rooms pulls him forward, the sound soothing the originally building headache in his temples. A calm washing over him, his eyes closing in a rare moment of clarity. The voices were questioning the music quietly, pushing for Techno to investigate the source of this sound passive-aggressively.

He presses the door open, and his breath catches at the sight before him. A beautiful person- no- that can't be a person. This being before him looked almost ethereal. Their brilliant golden hair flowed down to his neck, the shine of the sunlight on it creating a near halo effect. His silken robes accentuated his pale as ivory skin, the material gently clinging to this frail-looking entity. Freckles decorated their face like a spackle of stars in the sky, but instead of making him seem flawed, it only boosted his enchanting beauty. He was the picture of delicate beauty, a rare gem among the coal that often plagued his world. They practically glowed.

A shaky breath leaves him as he stares, the celestial looking being tilting their head forward quickly, pinning him with their sea glass green orbs. He couldn't move, speak, his mouth is dry as this nymph stares him down with intelligent eyes. It felt like they were analysing his very soul, seeing through him. Watching him. Judging him. It made his skin crawl as he started to feel dirty, his past sins crawling up his throat.

The voices were dead silent now. They were stunned into their own stupor. This entity was sitting before him, legs crossed prettily while they watched him while he gaped stupidly. 

They smile at him, waving gently "Greetings, my dear friend. How may I assist you today?"

Even their voice was perfect. It was unfair. Techno had been in firm belief gods did not walk among men. He was the closest thing that would ever walk the earth as a supreme being. Then this- celestial being has the audacity to present themself before him? To suddenly prove their existence? Is it because he was in a church? Did they need to mock him like this? After he had claimed just today to Tommy that God doesn't exist?

He opens his mouth to ask why they felt the need to torture him this way, he understood he had been an unbeliever, but why would they feel the need to expose themself to him in such a way? Why would this beautiful creature choose to torment his soul so recklessly? 

But the piercing ring of a "YOUR HIGHNESS" echoes through the halls, pulling him out of his daze. The woman was speaking, making gestures for him to follow. He couldn't quite hear her properly though, the voices expressing anger at the interruption. 

"How dare she…"  
"The audacity of this woman…"  
"Slay her, blood for the blood god…"  
"L"

The woman seems weary as he stares at her blandly. The world seemed so...colorless now, but everything was the exact same. It was throwing him for a loop. "Of course. Lead the way." He replies monotonously, flicking his velveteen robe back. When he looked back, the doors were locked back, looking almost untouched. Was that encounter even real…?

____________________________________

Dream tugged at his shoes, hopping into the choir steps as his fellow choir-mates stared him down with a variety of different expressions. Likely due to his lavish clothes. Most ranging from disgust, envy, and to those who understood the story behind why he received them, pity. 

He didn't need their damn opinions though, so he took his place at the end of the line-up, standing tall whilst he waited for the priest to inevitably drag the prince back to this god-forsaken service. He almost felt bad for the handsome prince, keyword almost. The royal family is the one who feeds into this church's bullshit though, so he doesn't feel too bad.

The almost silent creak of oak doors opening brings everyone to hush, all eyes falling on the dazzling prince who looked at all of them with concealed disdain. But Dream knew better. He could see that look and interpret it easily, he does it every day. The constant putting up with something because you have to. He could see the man lazily search the room before his eyes stop at him again, and a small widening of his lids has Dream arching a brow. 

The pinkette shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes quickly before looking back up at Dream again in shock. 

'Take a picture, it'll last longer' he snarks in his mind, turning his attention to the priest who had begun his drab service. He wouldn't give this asshole the satisfaction. He wasn't some freak to be stared at, he wasn't a museum exhibit meant to be put on display. He was a person who got stuck in this hellhole (ironic, he knows- considering all they preach is the cleansing of his soul and how one would make it to heaven if they prayed for forgiveness hard enough, stupid, he knows.) That wasn't his fault though.

"...and without a further ado, I welcome our choir conductor to lead our lovely children in a holy hymn." Dream hears the priest finish with, he too turns to stare at the blonde. Fucking great. Now he has a creep and a weirdo staring at him. Yuck.

He decides to ignore them in favor of listening to the gentle thrum of the organ's beginning notes for the recognizable song "amazing grace", nodding his head to the nostalgic tune. They had played this song all throughout his time here, everyone knew it. 

And as the lyrics began, he sang low, letting the sopranos take the lead with little problem. Just keep up with the lyrics, finish this stupid service, then he could get out of these stupid clothes, put his mask back on, then get out of all public eye by camping out at Sapnap or Ant's house. He could avoid the church for a few days in hopes of his sanity stabilizing enough where he won't want to snap someone's neck. Sounds like a plan.

When the organ comes to its final fading note, he jumps down from his step and dashes to leave. 

'Bye bye, stuck-up bitches!' He laughs aloud, his choir-mates looking at him with shock and contempt. 

____________________________________

He was real. He's sitting in front of him. Right by all of these painfully normal people. He seemed so unbothered by it, like he was meant to be there. It felt oddly wrong. The entity was among men and women of the like, like nothing was out of place. What the hell was going on.

Techno can't help but feel a bit hurt when they refuse to look at him, turning to face that greasy priest with hardened emerald eyes. They betrayed nothing but scorn for the people around them, and that relieves Techno, if only just a bit. They shared distaste for everyone here, status meant nothing to this God. But why were they here… this church doesn't represent him. False prophets. Is he here to break it down…? He couldn't blame him if he did.

The organ music fades out, and his newly discovered divine being takes off.

The voices scream for him to follow, but he doesn't allow himself to run after. He has to stay. Phil is counting on him. He can investigate later on.

A smile dawns on his lips as he walks towards the priest. "Give me faith, my reluctant God."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream needs a break, some weird abilities are actually at play, he also gets chased? Well fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably gonna rewrite this later but ehhhh

The priest approaches the amused prince, stiffly bowing before him, having worked up a cold sweat. 

"Your majesty, I deeply apologize for the obscene actions you have witnessed from one of my own. He is troubled, you see, orphaned from a young age. He has never...adjusted to a life of propriety. I will be sure to punish him as you see fit whenever we find him once more."

The monotone prince lazily looks the priest up and down, eyes piercing the nervous trashbag of a man menacingly. He really thought the prince wanted the slimeball to 'punish' his new little god? That he was worthy of putting a god beneath his rage?

It was nearly laughable, the amount of audacity this man possesses to speak such nonsense so freely. A shame Techno wasn't in a laughing mood, the thought of an enchanting celestial being becoming broken under these tainted bigots.

It soured his thoughts, the voices echoing his silent rage in rapturous shouts. They called for bloodshed, clawing at the walls of his mind and building into a steady chorus of screams. A headache built up in his temples, a pounding comparable to the beat of a drum. 

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! CUT THEIR FLESH AND SPREAD THE CRIMSON!"

"KILL THIS DEGENERATE COMMONER, HOW DARE HE SPEAK OF A GOD IN SUCH A WAY! KILL HIM! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

"Despicable… Technoblade, blood for the blood god. Show this man it is not his place to punish OUR new deity!"

An irritated sigh escaped the pink-haired prince's throat, two fingers massaging at his forehead. "That is completely unnecessary. Leave the poor...man...be. I'm sure he has his reasons for the lack of his etiquette. Now please, continue this damned tour. So far I have been unimpressed with the results you have shown me. The church is beautiful in physical representation, but I have hardly seen any evidence that this church stays beneficial. So please-" he pauses, a muted feral grin stretching across his face.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't burn this place to the ground?"

.  
.  
.  
____________________________________

Blonde hair whipped in the wind as Dream hopped rooftop to rooftop, lithe body dodging between chimneys and decorative towers.  
He was acutely aware of his white boots clicking against clay roof tiles, feet sliding backward each time he propelled himself forward. 

This was his element. Outside, running about wildly, and free of that stuffy ass church. No obligations, chores, or boisterous royals/nobles to cater to every minute. 

It was sweet yet temporary freedom. Which was fine with the soft blonde, life is not without its flaws. He was all too aware of the fallacies sentient life could hold. You feel too much. It's overwhelming. 

The bombastic color of a sky blue rooftop clicking under his feet pulls him from his soured musings, unwillingly setting a smile on his face. This was his real home. Even if he couldn't bring himself to impose on Sapnap's family and live here, this was home.

Shouting can be heard around the back, Sapnap seemingly shouting out onto the busy street at the poor soul unfortunate enough to raise his fiery temper. He adored his friend, but he truly did have anger issues. Dream had to pull him from one too many fights at the cost of his own hide, everyone expected better of him. They often questioned

"He lives in a wealthy church, practically pampered, so why did he act so juvenile?"

He never listened of course, choosing to feign ignorance over it all. There was no point in getting worked up over their misinterpreted and deficient thinking patterns. 

Another screech is rung out of Sapnap's throat and he sighs, quickly jumping upward and off the roof, somersaulting and landing right next to Sapnap, unnerving smiley mak looking upward at a noble-looking man on a horse. He looked surprisingly soft, the usual sharp features that most nobles held were very unapparent on him, but those cold eyes were instantly recognizable. 

The industrious and calculating gaze, the look of someone who wouldn't hesitate to step on you to climb, set firmly in heterochromia eyes. He was so young, and he had already been exposed to the capitalist hard-ships in this world. Dream almost pitied him. Almost. 

"Oh! Dream- hey I didn't know you'd be coming here today- what the heck are you wearing- you look so fancy! Haha you look as fancy as this prick right here!"

The heterochromia brunette that sat upon a milky white horse's back rolls his eyes, tugging at the reigns as his horse gets antsy at all the yelling. 

"You'd do well to remember your place commoner. With one word to King Philza or Prince Technoblade, I could have this entire hovel stripped away from you! You should be grateful that I did minimal damage to a flower bed rather than your house!" The nobleman huffed, chest puffing out angrily. 

Sapnap moves to scream again, face beet red before Dream slides a hand in front of him quickly, using the other to grab him from the back and sit him down on the bench for their outside garden. He'd handle this, dealing with snotty nobles was an ace of his, sadly. 

Clearing his throat, he tilted his masked face at the rigid noble, hands coming to rest together easily. He can do this. 

"Sir you are aware the Millbery laws protect all forms of vegetation and plant growth, correct? They were established by the former queen nearly 30 years ago, long before you or I walked this Earth. So do tell, how you intend to get either the king, who's mother set these laws in place as her final rule as monarch, or the "ruthless" prince Technoblade likely even caring enough to listen to such a bullshit story. You're the one who is disregarding a law that is particularly important to the Antarctic Empire after all, for shame. I don't think the king would appreciate this ESPECIALLY after we explain you destroyed the kingdom's natural endangered fruit bush that resided in this garden."

The brunette noble was flushed with a soft red hue, his features switching from realization, to fear, to mortification in seconds. It made Dream smile ferally, a hand came up to pet the horse's mane. "However… if you could help us fix up the garden and apologize- for ruining it in the first place, patronizing Sapnap, and blackmailing us blindly- I think we can forgive you and nothing needs to happen further." 

Sapnap gives his blonde friend an incredulous look, darting his eyes back and forth between the bratty noble. He seemed perplexed that Dream would even want to keep the man around any longer. The noble would probably throw another hissy tantrum and just-

"Alright…" the brunette concedes, sliding off the side of his saddle with a damn near infuriating grace. He had no right to make something so simple look so good, in Sapnap's humble opinion. 

He takes a quick glance at the masked blonde who seemed far too calm. They both knew that nobody hated Nobles and the one percent more than Dream, and he wasn't one to have a sudden change of heart on such a heavy subject. 

He'd ask later decidedly. For now, he can teach this pretty prick some basic manners and how to get his hands dirty for once in his life.

____________________________________

A gentle wheeze leaves Dream as the two men from earlier argue back and forth over the pettiest of things. Constant biting remarks that were so stupid that they held unrealistic malice. It was entirely too funny. 

...It's been a while since anyone has been able to get Sapnap talk this much outside of Bad and Dream, he didn't even speak this much for Skeppy.

It made Dream happy, knowing that even if they may never see this pretty rich boy again after today, the impact will likely leave a positive affect on his overall mood.

The brunette himself had surprised Dream. While he did complain- a lot- he still went through with the work assigned to him, not once flaunting that he could just pay people off to fix it all. He was normal personality wise. He joked, laughed, and smiled like any normal person- it's a pleasant surprise for him though.

Snapping fingers pull him from his musings as if on beat, the owner a sour faced bandana wearing arsonist who looked ready to kick his ass. 

"Alright. I think I can handle pretty boy. You're doing that deep thought thing that makes the air go all staticky when you're happy. While it's better than the suffocating and panic inducing one from your angry or sad moods, it's still making George- I mean Sir Notfound and I fairly loopy. So shoo and go take one of your walks, witch." His friend says in mock seriousness, a single index finger pointing at the spruce door expectantly. 

Dream knew he was more concerned about others finding out about his strange abilities.

Right. Weird abilities affecting other people around him. Ah. Another fucked up part of his life. He almost had the pleasure of nearly forgetting about them. 

Some may call them a gift from god, but if any super over powered entity actually existed and gave him them, he'd argue that the devil had it out for him. Being able to conduct, control, and seduce emotions is all fun and games until you find you can't turn it off at any point.

While the mask offered comfort when he was anxious in a social setting, it also played a huge part in dulling the effects of his cursed abilities. 

But enough of silently complaining to himself over uncontrollable consequences of living a human life. He needs to take a breather walk through town. Spook the locals with his smiley mask some, then get back to Sapnap's home for the night. Sounded like a solid plan, the sun had barely dipped out of the sky, the night still carried a warm breeze.

Stepping out of the house quickly, he made his way onto the cobbled streets. Finally, some noise to accompany his already loud thoughts.  
___________________________________

A raspy exhale leaves the irritated prince as he slung himself over his saddle, hands gripping at reigns tightly, turning his knuckles white. The tension was built up in his shoulders, and all he wished was to take it slow before he inevitably had to face Phil.

He had been terribly short with the priest- but could he be blamed? The man was arrogant, and thought himself above those around him by tenfold. It was nerve-grinding, the audacity these people held. They believed themselves to be the diamonds among coal, yet they were nothing more than cracked stone.

...His- no, that celestial being from earlier had even fled from them, his look of contempt for the place obvious. He would condemn them to hell if that was within his jurisdiction, just to see the godly being pleased.

A terrifying thought.

"God damn it!" He set Carl into a careful trot, choosing to go through the long, winding cobble streets of the town, smoothing a hand through his strawberry locks. 

The thought scared him. What he'd be willing to do for a total stranger. An uncannily pretty and heavenly looking stranger- but still a stranger! Someone who had spoken just a sentence to him! Just to ask if he needed help- made him weak. Him, the prince who had been hailed as a blood god among men, had gone weak in the knees and nearly fell because of that damned Adonis reincarnated.

He'd need to talk to Phil about this need- he's probably the only one who'd have actual answers and wouldn't make a joke out of it when he realizes how serious he is.

Carl halted suddenly, and folded to the cobble road as a man walked past them, head down low with hands gripping a hood over his head. His pace fastened as Techno looked at him, almost as if he were nervous to be around the prince. He was obviously hiding something, whether or not it'd be worth it to check whoever he was is something Techno is still debating.

The prince hops off of the kneeling Carl, patting the horse's mane before taking off after the hooded stranger, eyes widening slightly as the man took off full speed, darting around the occasional cart and wandering traders and merchants.

So he wanted to play this game.

Sparing a brief glance at Carl, Techno decides to take off after this stranger. He wouldn't run for any reason unless he was planning some sort of ambush or he has something to hide.

Either way, he wouldn't be a very good upcoming monarch if he didn't investigate, right?

____________________________________

Dream silently cursed himself for walking past the pink haired Prince from earlier, doding between people and carts to further the distance between him and the creepy monarch that had stared so intently at him earlier. 

He knew he made himself suspicious, but he couldn't help it. The man freaked him out, the way he carried himself gave him mock chills. 

Sparing a brief glance backward, Dream stutters in his quick running pace as he sees the pinkette chasing after him, a determined look set into smouldering crimson eyes. Fuck fuck fuck fuckkkk-

What the hell had he done to deserve this? 

No matter, he could just lose the creepy ass "blade" in the spruce forest at the end of the town. He's known for his legendary pvp skills- and some may call him a human compass- but he would have a hard time keeping up with the parkour professional that is Dream. 

The blonde knew he held the higher ground here because of his lean figure, able to jump and maneuver himself in and around the thick greenery. 

Looking back one last time to lock gazes with the prince, he huffs, speeding into the forest. It wasn't anything new, it reminded him of the time he was first taken in by the church, he would have to swerve, dodge, and jump. 

It was basic human instinct driving him, the weary drag of adrenaline seeping through his veins, his brain kicking into overdrive. The stimulation around him was damn near electrifying, tantalising in the way it sent currents up and down his skin.

He can't afford to revel in it though. He can't get addicted to the feeling of being hunted again.

He expected the prince to have faltered at least a little bit, he was pretty deep within the forest in a few minutes- the light of the moon was blocked out by thick branches that arched above him.

While the dark offered a lot of cover, Dream's eyes weren't exactly built to see very well. He was getting around by memory alone, but nature has a tendency to mix him up, he doesn't want to risk hurting himself. Therefore it would be in his best interests to take cover right about now.

Feeling along the forest floor, he halts at a familiar tall oak, body hunching over and crouching downward. He kept a hand over his mouth, breathing quietly through his nose as he listened for the other. 

Quiet. Far too quiet. There wasn't even a hint of sound, no crunch of twigs and dirt beneath shoes, no breathing, and no rustle of clothes moving. It was unnerving, like the man had disappeared immediately. 

He waited.

A hand closed over Dream's mouth making him jump, hood shaken off as he began to squirm when another hand rested around his abdomen. 

"So tell me, little one, why are you running from your prince?" A monotone voice questions eerily quiet, breath tickling against his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! Thanks for reading this far if you have! I'd like to add on I am open to any questions or explanations if you are curious!


End file.
